The city at night talks through drones and chaos. The hidden city that lives in the shadows of the anaesthetized and over-stylized urban landscape. The night time heart that pounds to the rush of different drums: a subverted militaristic snare, a distorted break, a glitched dub attack, a middle eastern refrain, a cacophony of in-car dissonance, a symphony of random noise soundtracking life at the edge of the night. Where humanity lurks in darkened corners, hoods up, eyes down and communicating through clandestine gestures. Where the urban fox hunts in the darkness of the city’s suffocating ghost life, ransacking the daytime waste, taking what it wants – unafraid, unchallenged, untethered, untouchable… just like The Prodigy.

Their new album, The Day is My Enemy, takes you on a journey through the unchartered underbelly of urban nightlife where anger is an ever-present energy lurking just beneath the surface of an edgy calm.

By rights Liam Howlett, Keef Flint and Maxim shouldn’t be angry at all. For the last 25 years or so The Prodigy has cut a solitary path through the noise-scapes of electronic dance music. They’ve dropped five epoch defining studio albums, including 2009’s world dominating Invaders Must Die, and delivered unforgettable live performances that have taken electronic beats into unchartered territories. Throughout this time they’ve remained resolutely focused on their own vision, inspiring legions of artists along the way. No one would blame them then if they cashed in on their legend and produced an album of USA-friendly EDM mainstream beats like a well-earned pension plan. Isn’t that what bands are supposed to so by this stage in their careers?

Anyone expecting an EDM sell-out for album number six obviously doesn’t understand The Prodigy’s oppositional ideology. The Day is My Enemy finds the band pushing at the edges of expectation with the unbridled fervor of a bunch of teenage car thieves hot wiring the fastest motor they can find.